


Warning Mark

by theficisalie



Series: The Ink Files [2]
Category: Bandom, Empires, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Gen, Superheroes, Supernatural Elements, Superpowers, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-25
Updated: 2011-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:25:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theficisalie/pseuds/theficisalie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is something in the air that reminds Tom of the past, and he doesn't like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warning Mark

**Author's Note:**

> A little ficlet that happens between parts 1 and 2 of The Calypso Initiative, can be read at any time.

Sean was restless.

Tom could see it in his idle motions; the scratch of his blunt fingernails over the broad scar on his upper arm that gleamed like moonlight even in the middle of the day, the way his toes shifted in the cold sand, the twitch of his eyes as they followed every scrap of movement. His nostrils flared for a second and the skin beneath his eyes tensed and relaxed in each moment. His head angled itself this way and that, the motions so minuscule that if Tom’s senses weren’t as finely tuned as Sean’s, he wouldn’t have been able to see them.

There was something in the air. A storm of some kind, approaching on the horizon. Tom could feel it surging beneath his skin, the familiar growl that wanted to escape, to fight, to protect.

Sean scratched his arm again. His eyes were pointed toward the sights in front of him, but he wasn’t focusing on any of it. Not the roll of the lake or the two heads that bobbed in and out of sight, fighting against the current with the boundless energy of pups.

Tom was standing behind Sean, angled slightly away to protect his right side, but he could see everything. The skin beneath Sean’s eyes was bruised from lack of sleep. Tom had been watching, staying awake so Sean could drop off, but the older man could only manage fitful bursts of slumber these days. Tom had to wake him up from nightmares in which his hands and feet twitched uncontrollably, fighting the invisible foes that Tom could feel creeping up on them. He wanted Sean to sleep but he couldn’t stand the whimpers the man made whenever the nightmares came around. They sounded like they were being torn from his throat, and they made Tom want to fuck Sean’s demons _up_.

Sean scratched his arm again. There was a scent in the air that Tom couldn’t quite place and he could see Sean’s nose wrinkling as he had clearly been trying to identify it this entire time.

“What’re you guys doing?” Ryan asked, emerging from the surf, a handful of soggy green plants tangled in his hair. He dragged himself up the beach and collapsed at Sean’s feet, not even bothering to sit up. His shorts were plastered to his skin. He sniffed exaggeratedly and spluttered in surprise at the water he’d inhaled.

Sean’s shoulders stayed tense until Max came out of the lake to sit calmly at Sean’s feet. His long, curling hair was even longer wet, but Max just wrung it out and let it hang down his back unlike Ryan, who sat up momentarily and shook his head wildly before falling back.

Tom barely kept himself from rolling his eyes. Ryan was going to get sand _everywhere_.

“Nothing,” Sean said, his tone final. He tucked his hands into his pockets but Tom could see the muscles in his arms standing out. In his pockets, he was curling his hands into fists. “Just thought I smelled something.”

Sean glanced back at Tom and there was something in the gaze that made Tom fold his arms across his chest.

Sean was worried.

Tom didn’t know how to fix it. He didn’t like feeling helpless, or that Sean seemed to be hiding something. He didn’t like it when Sean was restless. It put him on edge.

Max and Ryan were both looking at him though, faces full of trust for Sean. He could see the layer of concern there: not that Sean might be slipping as a leader but that Sean might be in trouble. “Maybe it was a burger,” Ryan said, eyes twitching over to Tom’s momentarily.

“Probably,” Tom said, watching as Sean’s eyes flickered away from them all to stare out at the lake again. Tom gestured with his head. “Ryan, wash off. If you get sand all over the apartment, Sean’ll mount your hide above the door.”

Ryan sighed dramatically but raced off towards the lake again. A smile brushed at Sean’s lips for a second before the smell tickled at their noses again. Max could smell it too; Tom could see the supernatural click of familiarity behind his eyes.

Whoever it was, it smelled familiar. Like family. Like Pack.

They’d moved to Chicago, he and Sean, to get away from anything familiar and dangerous.

Tom didn’t like this.

Not one bit.

“Get in the car,” he told Max. Max waited for Sean to nod his head incrementally before jogging off towards the beat-up Camaro they’d found at an impound.

“Sean, we’re going home,” Tom said, waiting for the older man.

Sean hesitated, but turned to walk back to the car in the end. He had to pass Tom on his way, and he stopped, rubbing at the scruff of his beard with one hand. His golden eyes flickered up to Tom’s and held them for a long minute.

“It’s Frank,” he said finally, voice low, before trudging up the slope to their car.

“Fuck,” Tom muttered, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. No matter how hard they tried or how far they ran, the past just kept coming back to haunt them. To haunt _him_. One day he’d get away from it.

“Ryan!” Tom shouted. He ignored the way his blood was freezing in his veins in favour of making sure Ryan was following before he turned to join Sean and Max at the car. “Home!”

One day.


End file.
